Private life
Summary: Reader is worried Azriel got hurt on a mission and decides to go check on him...
Warnings: angsty, miscommunication, mentions of blood, kinda crackfic?
Wc: 3,8k
A/N: I genuinely thought I had uploaded this long ago but apparently it's been sitting on my drafts for months now LMAO sorry abt that.
“Alright,” you sighed, wiping your sweat-damp hands on your clothes, smoothing down the fabric, “I guess we're really doing this.”
Without letting yourself overthink it even more, you walked into the threshold and knocked three times, softly but firm enough that it'd be heard. It didn't take long before you heard footsteps approaching.
“Hello, can I help you?” The male had violet eyes, and from the stories Azriel told you, you were standing in front of the High Lord himself. You tried not to tremble as he stared you down.
He looked tired, his clothes were impeccable, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly out-of-place hair told you he'd had some rough nights. Which worried you even more.
You forced yourself to speak. Just get it over with, make sure he's fine then go home and pretend this never happened.
“I'm sorry to bother you, High Lord, I'm Azriel's friend and I haven't been able to speak to him.”
Rhys tried to hide his surprise from showing but you caught the way his eyebrows rose slightly.
“He told me he'd be away for a while and we exchanged letters on the same day every week. It's been three days and he hasn't responded. In his last letter, he mentioned he'd be coming back soon. I was worried something had happened…” Please tell me he's okay.
Any hopes you had were crushed when he frowned, looking down at the floor before stepping aside and inviting you in. “Come inside and I'll explain.”
You were hesitant. It was one thing walking to one of his family's houses to ask about his well-being, you never meant to interact with them any more than necessary—you hadn't even considered what you'd do if he wasn't okay. Now, going inside meant you might meet more of them, would know what kind of decorations they'd have. It was embarrassing to admit the thought of saying goodbye and having the High Lord walk you out scared you.
It seemed important—intimate, and you weren't sure if that was the right word for what you and Azriel had.
Obviously you had been intimate before, that's how it all started. But it was all casual, something and someone to take both your frustrations on. He said it himself that he was sending letters so that you would know when he'd be back and could prepare for the long night awaiting you. The sweet words he sent were just to incite you.
Azriel didn't do romance.
A small voice at the back of your head wondered why you were there then, if that was the case, that there was nothing romantic between you, why would you go out of your way to make sure he was alright? But you brushed it off.
Rhysand was watching you and you hoped he wouldn't dare go near your mind.
“I promise we don't bite.” His attempt at a joke didn't exactly work, but you offered him a small smile.
The first steps were easier than the rest, you walked inside enough that he could close the door, but didn't know where to go after that. Thankfully his hand met your upper back in a brief brush, leading you further inside and into the living room.
“Take a seat, please.” There was a bottle of wine and a glass sitting on the coffee table, a second glass appeared with a tiny wave of his hand, “Wine?” He turned back to you, showing you the bottle.
Walking into your High Lord's house was something, now drinking with him? “No, thank you.” He nodded, filling one of the glasses. You were still standing, all of the spots on the couch were available, the loveseats looked incredibly inviting, but you felt like you were invading too much.
Rhysand seemed to understand you weren't going to get comfortable any time soon. You knew he was going to take the couch, but then decided to make his way over to the fireplace, watching the flames dance.
“Listen,” he sighed, “Azriel is… There was an ambush. He managed to warn me before things got too dangerous, but he got hurt… badly.”
Your heart did that thing it always did when Azriel was involved, but instead of leaving those butterflies, it made you nauseous.
“How badly?”
“Badly as in,” He was hesitant to tell you, watching the way you stood there playing with your fingers before continuing, “His wings were damaged.”
“Gods—” Azriel had mentioned before how important the wings were for Illyrians, how he thought he was nothing without them and his shadows. You couldn't bring yourself to ask if they were damaged beyond repair. The mere thought made you shiver.
In these three days you kept yourself awake, running through every possible reason as to why he hadn't contacted you, the idea that he perhaps had been seriously hurt hadn't been an option.
Not because you didn't think it was possible, even Gods could be killed. But because Azriel had become a constant in your life, and the thought that maybe you'd need to continue without him, was terrifying. Not a possibility.
Until now you hadn't allowed yourself to want more. You had him in your bed almost every night, and that was alright. He warned you from the moment you met that that was all he could ever give you, and it was fine.
Now you wanted more, needed more.
More time with him, more of his touch, more of the gentle words he spoke to you, more of the way he looked at you. The time you spent together was not enough.
“Would you like to see him?” Oh right, Rhysand was still watching you.
“Yes.” The voice didn't sound yours, the way it came out so firm and certain was such a contrast to the way you felt inside. Unsure.
He nodded, downing the rest of his wine—which you didn't even realize he'd kept sipping. How long exactly had you been lost inside your head?
“Come, I'll take you to his room.” He started walking and with the tunnel vision you would never be able to remember which way he went. You focused on his back and followed. “He was resting when I left, between the hourly tonics and applying the healing balms he didn't really get much sleep.”
You were so worried that the thought of bothering him hadn't even crossed your mind, “Maybe I shouldn't—”
He suddenly stopped, causing you to almost bump into him, “Oh no, darling, if Azriel considers you a friend, then I'm sure you're as important to him as any of us are.” He took a few steps more before stopping again, this time in front of a simple door.
You weren't sure what you were expecting, maybe a bloodied door handle, or the wood torn to shreds. But it was just a door, clean and without a scratch in sight. There were intricate and yet simple patterns carved into the wood, it was very much a bedroom door if you'd ever seen one.
Just a bedroom door.
“His wings are… They're not pretty,” He blinked, sighing once more before his hand met your shoulder, “but Azriel is fine. I probably should've told you that earlier before you went on a spiral.” He nodded, more to himself than to you, “He just needs support, and I'm sure you can give him that.”
Then he walked away, not bothering to see you going inside, or to check in with Azriel if he was okay with visits. He just left you there, in the middle of the hall staring at a wooden door like it held the most precious thing in the world to you.
Maybe it did. But you refused to acknowledge it now.
Azriel is fine, you reminded yourself, it was just his wings… the wings he loved so much. Wings he begged you to touch now and then, the velvety feeling of them that was ingrained in your fingertips and lips.
He will be okay. He has to.
You hadn't realized you had closed your eyes, whispering prayers in the back of your mind for whoever there was to hear you, begging them to let him fully heal.
Give him back to me whole. Protect him from any more damage. Hasn't he given enough?
A chill touch on your arms, you would've thought it was some spiritual being telling you that the prayers were answered, but you knew that feeling all too well not to recognize it.
Shadows. Which probably meant Azriel was awake and aware of you standing at his door like a statue. Your cheeks heated immediately, so much for nothing serious, you wouldn't react like this for just a good fuck would you?
But it didn't matter now. You had to see him, if after that he decided he wanted nothing to do with you and your feelings, then that was a problem for later.
The door handle was cold and bit into your heated skin, it was just a finger width open when you realized you should've knocked. First, you walk into his family's house, open up to the High Lord about being “friends” with him, and now you walk into his room, his most intimate space when he was hurt and vulnerable.
Nice. He'd never want to see you again.
The chill touch ran to your back then, a firm pressure and the door pulled open slowly, only enough that you could see the foot of his bed. Dark blue bed sheets, a bump in the middle which you assumed was his legs. A breath left you, there was no skin showing it was really him and it could very well be another male, but it was more than you had thirty minutes ago.
You pushed the rest of it open, bracing yourself to see the disappointment in his eyes, perhaps to even hear him telling you to leave. But it never came.
There were no hazel eyes to greet you, only his soft expression, his covered chest moving slowly with his relaxed and steady breaths. Asleep, Azriel was asleep.
Your eyes slipped down his form to his wings, slumped against the bed, not bloodied like you expected, not missing a piece, not broken. There were wet patches, cuts almost hidden beneath the balm, none of them close to the important areas. The parts he'd let you know were especially sensitive were intact.
Relief flooded inside you, you could finally breathe again. The pressure on your back pushed you further inside, reminding you that in fact, his shadows did not depend on him to work, they could think and choose for themselves. And right now they were choosing to lock you inside their master's room.
The door locked behind you with a soft click, you looked back in time to see them swirling back to hover above his chest, some still lingering on your arms for a moment before following.
There was a chair beside his bed, your feet carried you there but it was like you were floating.
You went weeks without seeing him, and when you finally did, he was hurt. But he also looked incredibly peaceful, you could see the way his lips were slightly parted, moving with his soft breaths. His eyes were moving, his thick eyelashes fluttering. It wasn't rushed movements, the frown he usually wore wasn't present. He was dreaming.
Azriel had slept around you before, but it was the first time you actually saw him sleeping. You were always just so tired that you didn't even realize you fell asleep, when you'd wake up he'd more often than not already be staring at you, the other times he'd just keep his eyes closed and let you think you finally beat him, only for him to start smirking.
It was a rare sight, and you would love to see it more often. But probably this was the first and last time you'd see him like this. Perhaps the last time you'd see him at all.
So you'd make the most of it. Memorizing his dark and messy curls, the shape of his lips, the bump on his nose, his sharp cheekbones, his jawline, his neck, the way his scent filled the room.
There was no denying it anymore. How could you? This male walked into your life, treating you like nobody else ever had, and you expected not to catch feelings? Sure, the bar wasn't high before him, but now he set it where you were sure no one would ever be able to reach.
His skin was warm when you reached for his hand, brushing your thumb over the bumps of his scars. He'd always been insecure about it. The hands that had been touched by so many cruelties, were covered in blood, tainted by basic instincts. He did what he had to do, and he hated it.
But those were the same hands that held you, caressed you in your most intimate places, which now included your heart. The shame of Azriel knowing you went against his wishes and sought him out like this had vanished. He deserved to be loved, and you'd be damned if you never showed him that. He could refuse it, could pretend you had never shown up—that you never existed, but he deserved it.
You weren't sure how long had passed as you held his hand and watched him rest. Time didn't matter.
At some point, there were voices outside, but no one came in and his shadows didn't move to greet them like they did with you, so you continued there. Watching, admiring, hoping you'd get more of this.
Not him getting hurt, Gods no, more of peaceful Azriel. An Azriel that didn't look like the weight of the world beared down on him, this side of him that made you want to curl up in the space between his arm and ribs and make yourself at home.
He shifted then, a long breath leaving his lungs, his shadows scurried to check on him before he even opened his eyes. None of them reached his ears though, and you knew they were leaving the fact that you were there for him to discover.
The hand you held tightened, his thumb running over the back of your hand even before he fully woke. You basked in his touch and watched quietly as his eyes fluttered open. Blinking twice to adjust to the warm faelights, he looked towards the windows, probably trying to figure out what time of day it was.
Then his eyes slipped shut again, and you unconsciously squeezed his hand. I'm here, look at me, let me see those eyes again.
And he did. The next moment his eyes snapped open and met yours, surprise etched on his face. Not the one that said, what are you doing here? It was more like, she's here. He was… relieved.
“Hi.” His voice sounded dry when he spoke, a simple word, and it still brought a smile to your face.
“Hi.” He mirrored your smile, shaking his head lightly.
He licked his lips before speaking again, not meeting your eyes, “I was wondering when you'd come find me.”
What.
You didn't have an answer to that. Azriel was… expecting you?
“Took you long enough.”
You would have laughed if you weren't so busy imitating a gaping fish. Not only was he expecting you, but he also thought you were somewhat late?
Azriel chuckled, his eyes were closed and amusement was written in bold letters on his face.
“I thought you'd be mad.”
He frowned then, “Sweetheart, why would I be mad?” He squeezed your hand, the other one pushing himself up into the headboard. “All I wanted was to have you here, it's been a nightmare not being able to get up to go see you. I tried snatching a pen and paper but those idiots wouldn't leave me alone.”
A giggle finally left you then, of course he would insult his brothers, deep down he just didn't know what to do with so much care. “Well, the High Lord did look like he spent the night awake, having to take care of two babies sure seems like hard work.”
His reaction was exactly as you expected, he snorted and chuckled, then he pulled your hand until you had to lift off the chair, “Come here, lie with me.” He let go of your hand to try and pull you by the waist.
You stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Sure you were thinking about cuddling with him but you weren't actually going to do that, “Az, no, you're hurt.”
“And?”
“You are hurt.”
“I'll be even more hurt if you don't get on this bed with me right this second.”
“Your wings—”
“Are healing, they don't even hurt anymore.” He started pulling again, and this time you let him.
You were careful not to touch his wings, not to move too much, but he didn't seem to care, moving you and himself until you were both comfortable.
You heard and felt the deep breath he took, no doubt taking in your scent, to confirm it his nose brushed your head, nuzzling you.
It was so funny. You spent the last three days beating yourself up for wanting to check on him, your mind torturing you with his possible reactions. You grieved for the hypothetical ending of this relationship. And here he was, waiting for you to come find him, wanting you here.
“Why are you so tense?” Long fingers traced swirls on your back, trying to make you relax.
You sighed, the words just escaping without much thought, “When you didn't answer my letters, I wanted to come find you right away, but I thought you'd hate that I was invading your life—I thought maybe you wouldn't want to see me when you found out I came here.”
He was tense and quiet for a moment, then he pulled away slowly, lifting your head by your chin so you'd look him in the eyes, “Why would you think that?”
The look on his face was enough to know your thoughts were so entirely wrong, “You said you didn't want anything serious, that your private life was important to you.”
“Honey…” He shook his head, “I said that months ago, before I knew how incredible you were! Before you had become such an important part of my life. And, private life? I meant that as in our private life, I didn't want my family to barge in and disrupt the rhythm we had settled, our privacy is important to me.”
Our private life.
You knew what you had was private, but to hear him put it like that. You understood. It wasn't casual, it was forming something from the start, from zero. You were both trying out something new, something none of you were familiar with. The rhythm we had settled, careful and unhurried, that's why nothing was straightforward. Nothing with him felt like a slap to the face, or a heavy stone weighing down your heart, it was a soft spoken compliment, a brush of lips against skin, it was the hushed secrets and stories you shared in the dead of night.
This whole time you thought maybe this was a pastime for him, that eventually he'd tire and it would become just a memory of something that happened.
For you he was carving a spot for himself in your life, so deep you wouldn't be able to dig him out when you found someone to settle down with. You thought he'd eventually be the one you'd remember when your husband did something that upset you, “flowers again? Azriel took me stargazing on my birthday, he taught me the constellations I painted in the nursery—”
For him, he was finding a good pace to meet you on the same path, he was learning the routes you took, accompanying you when you took breaks but encouraging you to keep going. He didn't want to meet you at the finish line where there were no more obstacles, he wanted the journey, he wanted the shared struggles and small victories.
He wanted the whole thing with you, and you didn't realize it until now.
“You are very important to me, I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear before.” A kiss to your temple, his arm pulling you tighter against him. “I didn't want to rush things, I've always been too much and I was afraid you wouldn't be ready for that…”
“To be honest, I wasn't sure I was until I saw you lying here,” You breathed him in, brushing your nose against his neck, “I decided then that I'd take whatever I could get, if it meant I'd get more of you. I'm ready for anything you give me.”
Azriel pulled away to meet your eyes, there was a shine in them that wasn't there before. “Are you sure?” He whispered.
“I'm sure.”
“You won't run away if I said I love you?”
“No. Because I love you too.”
He smiled then, leaning to rest his forehead against yours, “I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You lay there for a good while, just enjoying this newfound and yet familiar feeling.
Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when the peaceful moment was disturbed, it wasn't even by a knock or laughter down the hall, it was a body tumbling into his room, a big body.
“Wait!” the door banged against the wall, “Tell me I didn't just lose three digits of money to Rhys. Do I have a new sister, yes or no?”
You would have laughed if he hadn't scared the hell out of you. Azriel's chest moved under your hand, then his low chuckle reached your ears. “What did Rhys bet on?”
“That she'd still introduce herself as your friend like she did with him when she met the rest of us.” His eyes noted the way you were wrapped around each other, confirming you were definitely more than friends. Cassian was basically buzzing with excitement, you worried that if someone shook him he'd go flying.
“Wait, you said you were my friend?”
You sighed, laying your head against his chest, “We had some miscommunication problems, you and I.”
There was a female's voice then, “So…”
“Oh, they're so cute!”
“Alright, I admit I was wrong.”
“Brother, admitting you were wrong doesn't mean anything. Pay up, loser.”
“What? She hasn't even said what she is!”
In a blink they were all staring at you.
Azrael's hand squeezed your waist in encouragement.
The room was quiet, all of them waiting for your answer, even when they all knew by now. “I'm his…” A bet on your relationship, you couldn't let them win, could you? “His private life.”
“HIS WHA—”
:)
